The Athenaid: Volume I: Book The Third Poem by Richard Glover

O'er his own squadron soon Troezene's chief
Hath reassum'd command; the rest embark
Aboard the Delphian. Æschylus then spake:


To Salamis we hoist returning sails:
Say, Aristides, shall my voice, of weight
Among the tribes, solicit thy recal?
Our country wants that helpful hand of thine.


No, Aristides answers, this again
Might waken faction; let the monster sleep.
Themistocles directs united minds,
In him confiding: not the stock reviv'd
Of all Cecropia's heroes since her birth,
Could like this union prop the Attic state.
Brave too the son of Neocles, expert,
Cool, politic; his talents will uphold
The public safety for his own renown.
May he enjoy a glory so acquir'd!
My secret counsels from Ægina's isle
Shall not be wanting: for my country's sake,
Which I forgive, him, author of my wrongs,
My utmost efforts shall advance to same.


The gulph Saronic now admits their keel.
By Epidaurus coasting, they attain
The cape of high Spiræum, which o'erlooks
Ægina. Guided by Aurora's light,
Th' illustrious exile on that isle they land;
Thence veering, steer for Salamis. These words
Now break from Medon; Silent have I gaz'd
On Aristides, shortly must behold
Themistocles; Athenian friend, explain
Between such men what cause produc'd their feuds.


Their diff'rent merits, Æschylus replied,
Rais'd emulation in their younger days.
A soldier's part they gallantly achiev'd
In the same rank at Marathon; I saw,
Admir'd their valour. For distinction high
In pow'r and fame, Themistocles hath us'd
His num'rous virtues; Aristides walk'd
In virtuous paths, alone by virtue mov'd;
For him his justice hath a title gain'd
Of Just. The son of Neocles, inflam'd
By envy, stirr'd the people's jealous fear
Against his rival to assert a law,
Where, by inscription of his name on shells,
A citizen so potent, that his will
Seems only wanting to subvert the state,
Is by concurrence of six thousand hands
Doom'd for ten years to absence from their bounds,
Without disgrace or mulct. Among the tribes
Themistocles hath since obtain'd a sway
Which might incur the rigour of that law;
Yet by the gods his influence supreme
He at this crisis gallantly employs
To save the public.-Lift thy wond'ring eyes!
The whole confederated fleet of Greece,
Four hundred gallies, bulwark all the round
Of Salamis: one animated mass
That island shews; from swarms of either sex,
And ev'ry age, dales, hillocks seem to heave
With undulating motion.-His discourse
Clos'd with his voyage: on the furrow'd sands
Of Salamis the vessels rest their keels;
Where living waters from a copious spring
Discharge their bubbling current. On a smooth,
But gently-shelving green, pavilions rose;
One from the rest sequester'd, under shade
Of oaks above, was neighbour to the fane
Of Telamonian Ajax, hero known
At Troy: the Attic phalanx then he join'd,
By Athens honour'd since with rites divine.


This tent, by ensigns of command in front
Adorn'd, Themistocles possess'd: alone
He now remain'd; artificer sublime
Of great expedients, in the greatest storms
Which rock a state, he, politic and firm,
In manly strife with fortune when she frown'd,
Whene'er she smil'd her favour to secure-
He now, to feed his enterprising soul,
Successes past enumerating sat,
Thus in a glow of thought: While others dream'd
Of rest and safety permanent in Greece,
I from the day of Marathon presag'd
The war begun, not finish'd; I, in time,
Exhorted Athens to construct her fleet,
A destin'd refuge; for the sail and oar,
The shrouds and rudder, I her lusty youth
Prepar'd; ere yet the Hellespont was bridg'd,
I cur'd intestine feuds distracting Greece;
When fate remov'd Leonidas from earth,
My penetration, fathoming the depths
Of ocean, like futurity foresaw
Laconia's sloth; yet undismay'd I form'd
The mighty plan to save th' Athenian state
By yielding Athens to Barbarian flames.
That I might plead the mandates of a god,
I won, by secret gifts, the Pythian maid
An oracle to render, which I fram'd;
Th' interpretation to enforce, that ships
Were wooden walls, Minerva's priest I gain'd
Among the people to imprint belief
By feign'd portents, and all religion's craft,
That to the sea their deity was fled,
Th' Acropolis deserting. Thus at will
This restive, fierce democracy I sway
For their salvation, and my own behoof
In pow'r and lustre . . . . Interrupting here
His eagle vanity in lofty soar,
The warrior-poet and Oïleus' son
Appear. Serene and vacant he descends
At once to affability and ease;
As from his airy tow'r the lark, who strikes
Heav'n's highest concave with his matin trill,
His pinions shuts, and tranquil drops to earth.
Of Aristides Æschylus he knew
The friend approv'd; him courteous he salutes:


Thy eloquence and arms, the gen'rous toils
Of Aristides too, have reach'd my ear
By late intelligence. Thus far at least
You have prevail'd; this navy is enlarg'd
By squadrons new from various Grecian states.
Is not this Medon? Honour'd in thy sire,
More in thy own deservings, my embrace
Accept; accept the welcome of this tent.


Myronides now joins him, mighty chief!
The destin'd scourge of Thebes; Xanthippus, soon
At Mycale to conquer; in his hand
Young Pericles, that future star of Greece;
Then Cimon, fated on the land and main
To gather palms in one triumphant day;
Subaltern warriors to the prudent son
Of Neocles. Saluting these, he spake:


My gallant fellow-citizens, you come
To learn the issue of this day's debate
In gen'ral council. Wisely did we cede
To Spartan Eurybiades command;
The diff'rent squadrons to their native ports
Had else deserted. Irksome, I confess,
This acquiescence; but occasion looks
Disdainful back on him who lets her pass;
You have embrac'd her. Yielding to the Greeks,
You fix their station here, the num'rous foe
In narrow streights between Psyttalia's isle
And Salamis to face. Can he possess,
Who sees a treasure scatter'd on the ground,
Unless he stoop? So prostrate in your sight
Lies Greece, that precious treasure. Can you rule
Before you save? On union safety grows.
Resigning now an empty name of pow'r,
Your moderation, winning grateful states,
Will to your own a real sway procure
Of long duration. Lacedæmon's pride,
Her best allies abandoning-a force
Of ten weak vessels sparing to a fleet,
Where Attic hands unfurl two hundred sails-
Shall pay hereafter retribution full
To you, Athenians, out of ashes rais'd
From her to wrest ascendancy in Greece.


Not sweetest music lulls the melting soul
Beyond his artful eloquence, which soothes
Their warm, their injur'd virtue. They reply:


To thee, not Sparta, cheerful we submit,
Our leader sole; thou judge and act for all.


Now to his frugal Attic meal they sat;
Where Æschylus and Medon, each in turn
Unfolding amply his adventures, won
Attention: pleasing information charm'd
Deluded time, till midnight prompted sleep.


Thus, after labours past, the martial bard
His countrymen rejoin'd. The hostile ships,
Which gave him battle under Malea's cape,
Veer'd for the streights Euboean, where the fleet
Of Asia moor'd. Subsiding on their way,
The wind grants leisure for the Persian chief
To view the captives. Artamanes steps
Before the rest: on sight of Caria's queen,
Great Artemisia, who commanded there,
His cheek, with recollection of his sire
To her so late persidious, reddens warm.


She first to him: Argestes could behold
Me worsted, long resisting adverse fate
On fam'd Thermopylæ's disastrous field;
My danger he enjoy'd: his rescued son,
Whose growing merit wins observant eyes,
I see with gladness; welcome to my deck!
But who is he, disconsolate in mien?
O rev'rend man of sorrows, lift thy head!
From Artemisia no dishonour fear.
He makes no answer-Artamanes, speak.


The youth replies: His name is Timon, chief
And priest in Delphi; on our inroad there,
My brother, Mithridates, snatch'd away
From his paternal breast a noble maid,
An only child. His mind is darken'd since
By frenzy; my compassion his distress
Hath ever tended, servent now implores
Thou wouldst commit him to my grateful care:
Myself am debtor to indulgent Greeks.


In smiles the princess answer'd: Gen'rous youth!
Couldst thou protect him, I would trust thy care;
But those deform'd by ignominious deeds
May exercise in malice stronger pow'r
Than thou in goodness: for the present lay
Th' unhappy Delphian on a bed of rest.


Beside her waits Aronces, high in trust,
A hoary senior, freedman of her sire.
On Meliboeus, on the queen, he fix'd
Alternate looks; then earnest him address'd:


O thou of noble frame, in lowly garb,
Speak whence thou com'st, thy own, thy father's name.
What region gave thee birth? Did nature print,
Or some disaster, on thy cheek that mark?
I am not curious from a slender cause.


The swain replied: From nature I derive
That mark; of parents, of my native seat,
Within this breast no traces now survive;
In childhood stol'n by pirates, I was sold
(Heav'n there was gracious) to the best of mèn:
Full thirty annual suns have since elaps'd.
He oft appris'd me, that my infant lips
In Grecian accents would repeat the names
Of Lygdamis and Dirce; so I styl'd
My sire and mother.-O imperial dame,
Thyself the seed of Lygdamis, exclaim'd
The ancient man. If circumstance be proof,
He is thy brother, Haliartus, stol'n
Within that period from thy father's tow'r
Wash'd by the waves, that fair abode retir'd.
Halicarnassus mourn'd the dire event.
He is thy likeness. I, preserr'd to rule
Thy father's household; I, whose faithful arms
So oft the infant Haliartus bore,
So oft with eyes delighted have perus'd
That object dear, I never can forget
That signal mark, coeval with his birth,
Distinguishing thy brother.-Pensive, mute,
Uncertain rests the queen.-He still proceeds:


Behold thy son, Leander, melts in tears!
It is the touch of nature hath unclos'd
That tender spring.-To him the regal dame:


Old man, thou know'st I honour, I confide
In thy untainted faith. All strange events,
Dress'd in affecting circumstance, excite
These soft emotions; such in ev'ry breast
Should rise, but not decide. Pure truth is built
Not on our passions; reason is her base.
Him to accept my brother, needs more proof;
But to his manly and ingenuous looks
I render homage. Let him case his limbs
In Carian steel, and combat near my side;
Let deeds illustrate an exalted mind;
Then, whether kin or alien to my blood,
He like a brother shall obtain regard
From Artemisia.-Meliboeus here:


Endear'd to heroes of Oïlean race,
I claim with none alliance; I have liv'd
With them in joy, from ignorance been rais'd
By them to knowledge, from the lowly state
Which heav'n's deciding providence ordain'd,
To their deserv'd regard, my utmost wish.
To them restore me; I request no more
From deities or mortals. Case my limbs
In Carian armour splendid as thy own,
Ne'er shalt thou see me combat near thy side
Against the Grecians. Place of birth, or blood
Of noblest dye in kindred, quite estrang'd
By time and fortune, I reject for Greece;
Greece, my kind nurse, the guardian of my youth,
Who for my tutors did her heroes lend.
My dear affections all are center'd there,
My gratitude, my duty.-By the hand
She grasps the gallant captive, and proceeds:


Thy sentiments are noble, they bespeak
The care of heroes; thy release my hopes
Forbid, my tend'rest wishes; to constrain
Thy presence here, while we assail thy friends,
I scorn. Aronces, launch a nimble skiff;
On him attendant, reach Nicæa's walls,
For him transport a suit of arms compelete;
Nor let unhappy Timon want thy care.
Thee, Greek or Carian, brother, friend, or foe,
Whate'er thou prov'st hereafter, I will greet
Again, my heart so prompts me; I require
No plighted word, no token; ere we meet
Once more at least, thou wilt not, I confide,
Thou canst not harbour such a thought as flight
From Artemisia.-Meliboeus look'd
Integrity; he felt too full for words,
And sees her thoughtful and perplex'd retire.


Aronces now on Artamanes calls;
With him, and either captive, he embarks;
Of Carian arms he lodges on the poop
A rich-emblazon'd suit. The pinnace light
Along the shore, from ev'ry foe secure,
Skims o'er the waters with distended sails,
Swift as a vig'rous stag who hears no cry
Of dogs or men, but o'er the champaign green
Or valley sweeps, to glory in his speed
And branching antlers. On the form and port
Of Meliboeus long Aronces fed
His eager eye, unsated with delight;
At last he spake: My lord, Nicæa's fort,
A garrison of Xerxes, will afford
A refuge kind, till Caria's queen her sail
Of visitation hoists; the setting sun
Will see my lord safe landed in the cove.


That splendid title thou dost ill bestow
On my condition, Meliboeus then.


To whom Aronces: Oh thou art my lord,
Thou art the son of Lygdamis! My heart,
Old as I am, experienc'd in events,
Without a cause to such excess of joy
Would ne'er mislead me.-Honest hearts, rejoin'd
The other, oft are credulous, and lead
The mind to error; art thou sure, my friend,
That I am no impostor, who hath heard
Of Lygdamis and Dyrce, and apply
Their names to falsehood?-Haliartus, no!
Exclaims Aronces; I before me see
My noble master, Lygdamis, restor'd;
Such as he was when thou, his child, was lost.
Oh! lend attention-lo! the winds are still,
The sea unruffled, while my tongue begins
A tale which once with horror pierc'd my soul,
But in thy hearing rapt'rous I repeat:


Halicarnassus gave thy father birth,
Her most illustrious citizen; with twins
Thy mother's bed was bless'd; thy sister one,
That Artemisia, glory of her sex,
Bestow'd in marriage on the Carian king;
Thou art the other. Oft thy sire abode
Within a tow'r delightful, but remote,
Wash'd by the billows; one disastrous day,
As thou wast tripping on the silver sands,
Thy nurse attending with some faithful slaves,
A troop of pirates landed; all thy train
Defending thee were kill'd, or wounded sunk
Disabled on the beach; with various spoil,
From those unguarded borders, they convey'd
Aboard their vessels thee their richest prize.


Aronces paus'd.-From Timon, listing by,
This exclamation broke: My daughter too
May be recover'd!-Artamanes here:


Myself, redeem'd from capture, pledge my faith
That I will struggle to restore thy child.


Night dropp'd her dusky veil; the pinnace gain'd
Nicæa, Locrian fortress, seated nigh
Thermopylæ; ensuing morn proclaims,
By shouts and clangour, an approaching host.
That gate of Greece, by Lacedæmon's king
So well maintain'd, defenceless now admits
Uncheck'd Barbarian inroads: thus a mound
By art constructed to restrain the sea,
Or some huge river's course, neglected long,
And unsustain'd by vigilance and care,
Affords a passage new to whelming floods,
Whose surface hides fertility in waste;
Till some sagacious architect oppose
To nature's violence a skill divine,
Prescribing where th' obedient wave shall flow.


To his companions Artamanes spake,
As in their sight, extended from a tow'r,
Thermopylæ in torrents from its mouth
Pours mingled nations: See Mardonius there,
The son of Gobryas, author of this war,
The flow'r of Asia's captains. At the time
We first attack'd this pass, with num'rous bands,
A distant range of Macedon and Thrace
He was detach'd to ravage and subdue,
Triumphant now returning. Friends, farewel!
Him I must follow. Timon, may the light
Of Mithra shine propitious on m days
As I protect thy oaughter, and restore,
If fate so wills, her spotless to thy arms.


These words, relumining with hope, compos'd
The clouded soul of Timon. Swift the youth,
In vigour issuing through the portal, mix'd
Among his native friends: a blithsome steer,
At op'ning dawn deliver'd from the stall,
Thus o'er the flow'ry pasture bounding, joins
The well-known herd. Mardonius him receiv'd,
Foe to Argestes, cordial to his son,
Mardonius all-commanding, all in frame,
In nervous limbs excelling, like that bull
Who stemm'd the billows with his brawny chest,
Who on his back of silver whiteness bore
Europa's precious weight to Cretan strands,
Himself a god transform'd. New martial pow'rs
Are here from Hæmus, from Pangæan snows.
A Greek in lineage, Alexander here,
Young sov'reign o'er Barbarians, leads to war
His Macedonian troops. To Athens bound
By mutual hospitality, he lov'd
That gen'rous city; now, by force compell'd,
He arms against her. But persuasive love,
The charms and virtues of a Grecian fair,
Will wake remembrance of his Grecian race,
To better counsels turn his youthful mind.


That Asia's king was now advanc'd to Thebes,
Intelligence is brought; this known, a steed
Of swiftest pace Mardonius mounts; command
To Tiridates delegates-Thy force
Extend o'er Locris, o'er the Phocian bounds,
Our conquests new. This giv'n in charge, he speeds,
With no companion but Argestes' son,
Nor other guard than fifty horsemen light,
To greet the king. The second morning shews
Cadmean Thebes, whose citadel was rais'd
By stones descending from Cithæron's hill
Spontaneous, feign'd in fables to assume
A due arrangement in their mural bed
At sweet Amphion's lute; but truth records,
That savage breasts by eloquence he tam'd,
By his instructions humaniz'd, they felt
The harmony of laws and social ties.
To him succeeded stern Agenor's son,
Phoenician Cadmus, he who letters brought
From Tyre to Greece; yet ignorance o'erwhelm'd
His generation; barbarous of heart,
Obtuse of mind they grew; the suries there,
There parricide and incest reign'd of old,
Impiety and horror: more debas'd,
They now for gold their liberty exchange;
They court a tyrant, whose Barbaric host
Flames round their bulwarks, harrows up their plain,
Lays waste their plenty, drinks Asopus dry,
Their swift Ismenus, and Dircæan spring.

End of the Third Book